


In the Nick of Time

by Here_to_read1818



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27905371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Here_to_read1818/pseuds/Here_to_read1818
Summary: Tobin has trouble getting home for Christmas
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 18
Kudos: 186
Collections: Preathfics Winter 2020 Collection





	In the Nick of Time

“Baby, I promise you, I’ll be home in time. I’m headed to the airport now, which will give me…” Tobin pauses to look at her wristwatch, “4 hours to get through security and wait patiently at the gate for my flight.” 

“Ok Tobes, but I want it on the record, again, that I disagreed with Six Star even scheduling this shoot so close to the holidays,” Christen huffs. And Tobin understands. Her wife is 7 ½ months pregnant with their first child and Tobin is in NYC for a sponsorship commitment while her wife is posted up at the Press’ Palos Verdes household for the holidays and impending arrival of their little one. 

“Chris,” Tobin coos, “it’s noon on the 23rd, I promise you, I’ll be home for Christmas, ok? You have nothing to worry about.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------

Tobin can’t help but shake her head. “So what you’re telling me is this happens often?” Fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose to stave off the impending migraine. 

“Yes, Miss, and from what I’m hearing on the radio, it looks to be pretty bad...I hope you have a book or something.”

Tobin’s head thumps against the backseat window.  _ Ok...this is fine. I’ll be fine. Get to the airport and make a plan. _

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Sorry,” Tobin looks at the woman’s name tag, “Natalie, can you say that again. All flights are grounded tonight?”

At least the airline attendant seems sympathetic when she explains for the third time, “Yes Mrs. Heath, there’s a major storm system coming through and all flights are grounded in the Tri-State area.”

“And you don’t know when the next flights out to LA will be?”

“That’s right. At this point we can book you on the next flight but they’ll just continue to bump you until a flight will actually take off.”

“Ok, thank you Natalie, I’m going to call my wife and figure out what makes sense. Happy Holidays!” Tobin hitches her backpack up on her shoulder, preparing herself for the verbal lashing that Christen is going to give her.

Airpods in, looking up at the departures board that reads cancelled, Tobin hopes that her wife will be a little bit understanding that she can’t control the weather, no matter how hard she prays.

“Tobin Powell Heath, you should be on a plane right now. Not on the phone with me,” Christen answers in a disappointed tone. A tone that’s usually reserved for when Tobin plays soccer in the house.

“Chris, it’s been a rough few hours,” Tobin rushes out, “I literally sat in the middle of the Queen’s Midtown tunnel for 4 hours, and just got to the airport and all the flights out of JFK are grounded. They’re going to book me on the next available flight but they don’t know when that’ll be,” Tobin digs the toe of her boot into the floor tile.

A comforting sigh leaves Christen’s lips. “Tobes, I love you, and I don’t care how you do it, I just need you home, ok? The holidays just don’t feel right without you here. Plus the baby’s been kicking up a storm. They want you home as badly as I do.”

“Chris, I promise, I’ll figure it out. You, me, the dogs, and peanut will be snug on the couch unwrapping presents on Christmas morning.”

\---------------------------------------

“Hi, I’m hoping to rent a car, preferably 4x4?”

_ Chris did say she didn’t care how…. _

“You’re incredibly lucky, we have one left,” the rental car agent shares happily.

_ Thank God. _

“Amazing. It’ll be a one way rental. Dropping off in Chicago.”

The rental agent prints off the required paperwork, requesting signatures and credit card details. With a wish of a “Happy Holidays” Tobin is set for her 825 mile trek to Chicago, and one of the busiest airports in the country.  _ If I can’t get a flight out of O’Hare, I’m not getting a flight anywhere. _

\-------------------------------------------------

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. 

_ What the heck? _

Tobin pulls off to the side of the I-80 just outside Cleveland, praying she just hit some debris or something. She has about 6 hours to go before she makes it to the Windy City. With the car pulled over, she’s never seen an engine smoke like this outside a Hollywood movie. She quickly grabs her phone and bags out the car just in case. Fortunately for her it’s not freezing cold, but she pulls her jackets to her body as she tries to think of a new plan. 

_ I’ll call Chris and see what she thinks. _

Tobin pulls her phone from her pocket but it won’t turn on. 

_ You’ve got to be kidding me! Fuck! _

Not exactly sure what to do, Tobin starts walking. She sticks to the far side of the highway shoulder, confident she’s visible with her bright blue Re-inc beanie. Her backpack and duffle are hitched up on her shoulders and she puts one foot in front of the other, continuing west. A quick look at her watch tells her it’s noon. She’s still got time to keep her promise to Christen although it’s going to take a Christmas miracle to get her to LA. 

Tobin’s lost in her thoughts, seriously wondering if Christen will divorce her (the pregnancy hormones have made her a teeny bit dramatic), when an older looking Honda Civic pulls up in front of her on the shoulder. Tobin walks up to the passenger side window, signaling to the driver to roll down the window. 

The driver, who looks to be a woman in her early twenties, leans over and cranks the window down. 

“Holy crap, you’re Tobin Heath!” the driver exclaims. 

“Hi...yah… that’s me,” Tobin’s a bit taken aback, not expecting to be recognized right off the bat.

“Wow, ok, well….where are you headed? Like, can I give you a lift somewhere?” the clearly shocked driver asks.

“What are the chances you’re headed to Chicago?”

“Funnily enough, 100%.” The driver unlocks the door, and Tobin, not seeing any other option, settles into the passenger seat. 

Nic (short for Nicole) is actually on her way to visit her girlfriend who plays basketball for Northwestern. Nic herself plays DII soccer at Seton Hill, so her and Tobin talk shop for most of the drive to Chicago after Tobin explains the holiday gauntlet it feels like she’s running. It’s a bright spot in an otherwise crappy past 24 hours. 

Eventually Nic pulls the beat up Honda Civic to the Departures terminal, expertly weaving through the traffic. 

“Nic, you have no idea what a life saver you are,” Tobin gushes as she makes sure she has everything before leaving the car. 

“Tobin, I’m just glad I was able to help,” Nic responds earnestly. It’s not everyday you get to spend one on one time with a two-time World Champion. 

“OK, so here’s my number,” Tobin recites the digits to the now starstruck girl, “please text me so I have yours.” Tobin has plans to pay Nic back, but she’s more worried about getting home to her wife right now. 

With one last wave to Nic, Tobin turns to find the Delta desk, starting there on her last ditch search for a flight. 

————————————-

Unsurprisingly, at this point, there’s a line 10 people deep. Tobin is prepared to beg to get back to LA (she considered stealing but didn’t know how much US Soccer would appreciate that headline). The wait in line feels like it is taking hours, and the feelings of stress and disappointment continue to mount the longer she’s two feet on the ground. She tries to literally shake it off, and takes a deep centering breath that would make her wife proud. She even sends up a prayer to the Christmas big man himself.

_ All I want for Christmas is to get home. _

Tobin finally makes her way up to the counter. The cute blonde ticket agent is wearing a Santa hat and her bright smile actually lifts Tobin’s spirits. She spies a name tag reading Jackie, and prepares to turn on the charm.

“Good evening, checking in?”

“Merry Christmas, Jackie! Actually trying to get a ticket on the next flight to LAX. I’m really hoping for a Christmas miracle today,” Tobin shares earnestly, with soft eyes and a pouty lip she knows is hard to resist.

“Well, let’s see what we can do.”

“You can throw me in the cargo hold if that helps” Tobin jokes and it earns a chuckle from Jackie who’s studying the computer, doing her best to get Tobin where she needs to go.

“Ok, the next flight out is in one hour, lands at LAX at 11:30pm. Unfortunately it’s sold out, but I can get you on standby and hope that a seat opens up. By getting you on standby we’ll just keep bumping you to the next available flight.”

“Excuse me,” someone speaks up from behind Tobin, startling her and causing Jackie to shift her attention.

“I’m sorry Sir, I’m currently assisting this customer and I’ll be with you in a moment,” Jackie says in what Tobin could only describe as an indifferent customer service voice.

“I understand, but I think I might have a solution,” the older gentleman says, causing Tobin to turn around and get a look at this person who might end up saving her day.

The gentleman, who is older, maybe about Tobin’s dad’s age, a bit heavier set with the most immaculately groomed white beard steps up and leans on the service counter, smiling at the two stunned women.

“That LAX flight you just mentioned, I’ve got a seat, and I would like to change it to,” he looks at Tobin expectantly.

“Tobin Heath,” she all but chokes out.

“Yes, I’d like to change it to Ms. Heath here. A directed donation if you will, Jackie,” the kind stranger elaborates further.

“Wow, ok, Mr….”

“Klaussen. Nick”

“Right, ok, let me just get in the system,” Jackie types away, looking between Nick and a surely stunned Tobin.

“So Mr. Klaussen, we can go ahead and take care of that but there’ll be a change fee of $500,” Jackie shares hesitantly.

“Not a problem dear,” Nick grabs his wallet from his back pocket, tossing down a Black American Express card that has Tobin a bit confused.

“Mr. Klaussen, are you sure? Please let me pay this,” Tobin tries to convince the incredibly generous stranger.

“Nonsense, Tobin, my gift to you,” Nick says with a jolly chuckle.

Tobin stares, dumbfounded. 

Jackie, unsure of what to do, reaches out for the card and starts the ticket change process.

“Ms. Heath, ID please,” Jackie asks, trying to finalize one of the most enjoyable moments of her day.

Tobin fumbles in her wallet for her ID, still a bit flabbergasted by the turn of events.

Nick, still standing, smiles at Tobin, enjoying the change of emotions on her features going from bewilderment to excitement to confusion to joy.

Jackie finishes the paperwork, prints out a boarding pass, and wishes a still mute Tobin and Nick a ‘Merry Christmas’.

The two travelers make their way out of the bustle and Tobin finally finds her voice. 

“Mr. Klaussen, I can’t thank you enough. Please let me repay you.”

“Tobin, please don’t worry about it. My work will cover it, and I’ll be on the next flight out.”

“If you’re sure! What is it you do for work? And if you won’t let me repay you, will you please let me buy you a coffee?” Tobin asks curiously

“I’m in shipping and logistics, and one flight change charge at this time of year is nothing. It’s our busiest season. And a coffee would be lovely.”

The pair make their way to the terminal coffee shop, Tobin sharing her journey, telling Nick about how she and Christen are expecting soon. The jovial older gentleman just listens to her gush about her wife, the excitement about their new addition evident in her voice. 

“Tobin, I think you should make your way to your gate. Would be a shame to get this far and miss your flight,” Nick jokes.

“Oh, absolutely. Again, thank you for your generosity. Safe travels and Merry Christmas,” Tobin shakes his hand and pulls him into a hug, giving an extra squeeze still a bit lost for words for her turn of luck.

She turns on her heel, looking for the entrance to security. She starts moving, taking one last look over her shoulder to wave goodbye, but Nick is nowhere to be found. She chuckles to herself, and looks to the sky, thanking whoever was listening to her Christmas wish.

—————————————

Walking up to the Press house Tobin takes a final look at her watch. 12:34am, December 25th. She made it. She digs for her key, unlocking the door to find the entire Press family up and communed around the kitchen island, looking worried.

“Merry Christmas!” She greets, every head on a swivel, taking her in, surprised.

“Tobin!!” Christen yells as she run/waddles towards her, wrapping her arms around her as much as her growing stomach would allow. “Baby, are you ok? I tried calling. What happened?” She asks in rapid succession, pushing Tobin away from her to take an inventory of limbs.

Tobin wordlessly pulls Christen back into her, burying her face in her neck, taking in Christen’s smell, silent thanks being made. “Merry Christmas, babe,” she whispers into her ear.

Christen melts into her, and Tobin is incredibly thankful she’s made it home for Christmas. She leans back, wanting to feel Christen’s lips on hers. As she does, Christen’s eyes widen in surprise once again.

“Babe, are you ok?” Tobin asks, now slightly confused.

“Tobes, I think my water just broke.”

—————————————————-

“Alright mommas, you’ve got yourselves a beautiful baby boy!” the doctor announces, “We’ll get him bundled for a quick snug but we’ll need to take him to the NICU for some monitoring.”

The doctor places the small bundle on Christen’s chest, and Tobin can’t help but cry tears of joy at the sight.

Christen, with her mussed hair and tired but loving eyes, looks down at the precious baby boy, staring reverently. “Tobes, we don’t even have a name,” she whispers.

Tobin, wrapping her left arm around Christen’s shoulders, leans in, places a delicate kiss to her hairline, speaks quietly, “What do you think about Nicholas?”

Christen turns to look at her lovingly, “I love it. Nicholas Heath Press.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!


End file.
